On a Moonless Night
by davros72
Summary: Rebecca Fogg encounters a young detective...


TITLE: On a Moonless Night  
AUTHOR: Kevin Schultz  
AUTHOR'S EMAIL: davros72@prodigy.net  
PERMISSION TO ARCHIVE: Sure, just let me know where it'll be  
CATEGORY: Crossover, brief character scene  
RATINGS/WARNINGS: G  
MAIN CHARACTERS: Rebecca Fogg, (Young) Sherlock Holmes  
SPOILERS: Yes, if you've not seen the film "Young Sherlock Holmes", which  
if you haven't you should do so this very minute!  
SUMMARY: Rebecca Fogg encounters a young detective...  
DISCLAIMER: Phileas, Rebecca, Jules, and Passepartout belong to Talisman  
Crest Ltd. Sherlock Holmes copyright the Estate of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle,  
minor character(s) copyright Paramount Pictures  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Nothing too serious here, just another idea that was kickin'  
round my head. The film takes liberties with the "accepted" Sherlock Holmes  
chronology (much the same way SAJV does), and this little tale does, too.  
  
  
**********  
  
Rebecca Fogg stealthily picked her way across the misty cemetery, keeping to  
the shadows. The cloudy, moonless night helped conceal Rebecca as she moved  
along. Keeping her prey in sight, she ducked down behind a large  
gravestone, and dashed across to a nearby tree. She slipped her binoculars  
out of their pouch which was attached to her form-hugging black leather  
catsuit, and placed them up to her eyes. She adjusted the focus, and zoomed  
in on the man she was following. Good, he still had no idea he was being  
followed. Of course, the fact that the man was completely drunk helped to  
numb his senses. The man stumbled over a low gravestone, but kept his  
footing. Rebecca put away her binoculars, and moved to follow him.  
  
"Uncus!" a voice cried out.  
  
Rebecca threw herself behind the nearest gravestone and mouthed a silent  
"Damn!" to herself. She peered around the edge of the marker, and saw her  
target spinning about, trying to locate the source of the voice. However,  
this did little more than confuse him even more, and he broke out into a  
stumbling run. By the time Rebecca scrambled to her feet to follow, the  
mist had enveloped the man, and he was gone.  
  
"Where are you?" the strange voice called out again.  
  
Rebecca clenched her fists and frowned. Whoever this person was would  
regret the day he crossed paths with Rebecca Fogg. She turned to her left,  
and narrowed her eyes, watching as a young man, about 18 years of age or so,  
emerged from a nearby bush. He was tall, with brown, curly hair, a long,  
thin face, with a long nose to match. His eyes were what caught Rebecca's  
interest. They were sad eyes. Not so much in the "given up all hope"  
category of sad, more the sort of "Ah, so that's how the real world  
works..." category. The young man was wearing a large overcoat which seemed  
just slightly too large for him, but Rebecca imagined he would yet grow into  
it.  
  
The young man was about to call out again, but having spied Rebecca across  
the cemetery, he paused. "Hello," he said, politely.  
  
Rebecca nodded, and tried to hold back the scolding that she felt gathering  
up inside her. "Good evening," she replied, her voice as cold as the chill  
night air.  
  
"I'm looking for my dog, Uncus," the young fellow continued. "You haven't  
seen a small, furry, white creature running about in here recently, have  
you? I'm  
afraid he's gotten away from me, yet again. He seems to have a habit of  
escaping me."  
  
Rebecca shook her head. "I'm afraid I've not seen any dogs, cats, snakes,  
horses, bears, or indeed any wildlife at all, except for one man, whom I was  
trying to catch up with." She put a steely emphasis on the word "trying",  
which the young man obviously noticed.  
  
"I am sorry if I intervened in anything important, ma'am," he said, bowing  
slightly. "But you see, my dog is rather important to me. He's a reminder  
of... well, he's all that I have left of... of someone I used to know,  
once."  
  
Rebecca's heart melted just a bit, noticing the hint of pain echoed in the  
young man's face as he spoke. "That's quite all right," she said, walking  
over to the young man. "I'll soon catch up with the person I was following,  
anyway. Probably fallen flat on his drunken, erm, face in an alley by now."  
  
The young man arched an eyebrow at that. "Indeed. And why, pray tell,  
would a lady such as yourself be after a man who would fall down in alleys?"  
  
Rebecca smiled just a bit. "Well, I'm not at liberty to say, actually.  
What I can say is my name. Rebecca Fogg."  
  
The man bowed again, slightly, took her hand in his, and kissed the back of  
it ever so gently. "Delighted to meet you, Miss Fogg. And may I introduce  
myself, my name is Sherlock Holmes."  
  
"Charmed, I'm sure," Rebecca said, holding back a giggle.  
  
"What is it, why are you laughing?" Holmes asked.  
  
Rebecca laughed. "If you don't wish to tell me your real name, that's  
perfectly understandable."  
  
Holmes stiffened. "That is indeed my real name, Miss Fogg. And I shall ask  
you not to make fun."  
  
Rebecca put her hand up to her mouth, and wiped the grin off her face. "I'm  
sorry, Mr. Holmes."  
  
The man shrugged and smiled a bit. "Well, to tell the truth, I'm not too  
fond of it myself."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"If you think that's terrible, you should hear my brother's name."  
  
"That's quite all right, Mr. Holmes," Rebecca said with a smile.  
  
There was an awkward silence, then Holmes began looking around, scanning the  
ground. "He usually doesn't leave very good tracks to follow, since he's so  
light and he runs quite swiftly, but I can usually deduct where he's gone."  
  
Rebecca was perplexed for a moment, and then recalled Holmes mentioning his  
dog. "Ah."  
  
"I'm quite good at detecting and deducing," he went on. Holmes threw  
himself to the ground suddenly, and picked up a blade of grass. "I knew  
he'd come this way." He stood up again, and moved off. Intrigued in spite  
of herself, Rebecca followed. As she had said, she could probably pick up  
the trail of her suspect within a few seconds anyway, so why not help this  
young man...  
  
Holmes and Rebecca walked amongst the gravestones, eyes peeled for any sign  
of canine clues. "Uncus, did you say?" Rebecca asked, after a moment.  
  
Holmes nodded.  
  
Rebecca nodded as well. "Another unusual name."  
  
"_Please_ don't ask me, I didn't name the little fellow," Holmes said,  
somewhat embarrassed.  
  
"Very well."  
  
"She named him," Holmes said. He stopped, and with a sudden intake of  
breath, quickly shut his eyes. Then just as suddenly he was off again, eyes  
open and hunting for the dog.  
  
Rebecca looked at Holmes closely. "Are you all right?" she asked, gently.  
  
Holmes nodded. "We'll find him, don't worry."  
  
"No, no... I don't think that's what's troubling you," Rebecca replied. "Is  
it?"  
  
Holmes stopped again, and Rebecca stopped next to him. He heaved a great  
sigh and hung his head. "No, you're quite right, and I am sorry for  
misleading you so, Miss Fogg. The dog belonged to... a young lady I knew."  
  
Rebecca nodded, prompting him to continue.  
  
"Her name was Elizabeth," he went on, his eyes gazing out across the  
cemetery. "We met some time ago, and we were very good friends. She  
was so beautiful, and kind, and was one of the most intelligent people I  
have ever known. She... died, saving my life. My friend John told me that  
it wasn't my fault, I shouldn't blame myself. And yet I cannot help but do  
that very thing. If not for me, she would be alive. If she had never known  
me, she would be happy, and doing all sorts of wonderful things for the  
world, and alive." He looked down, and kicked a bit of dirt off of his  
shoes. "I'm sorry to be troubling you with this, Miss Fogg."  
  
"Never mind me, Mr. Holmes," Rebecca said, laying a friendly hand on his  
arm.  
  
Holmes smiled up at her, his sad eyes filled with a steely determination.  
"I shall be all right, Miss Fogg. There's no need to worry about me. I've  
made my mind up about things, and I shall be just fine."  
  
A sudden yelp from a short distance away broke the moment. "Uncus!" Holmes  
cried in delight.  
  
Holmes dashed off in the direction of the bark. "Don't you dare run away  
again, John will have a fit if I lose you before he returns!" He came to a  
sudden halt as he found the little white dog. Uncus was sitting and looking  
up at a small,  
simple gravestone. As Holmes approached, he noticed whose marker it was.  
He sighed. "I should  
have known. I should have come straight here right away."  
  
Rebecca followed, yet kept a respectful distance. She noticed the name on  
the gravestone that Holmes and Uncus were standing before.  
  
ELIZABETH HARDY  
Beloved Friend  
  
The dates listed indicated that she had died just a few years ago. No  
wonder Holmes was still rather troubled. These things take time, Rebecca  
said to herself. He'll become a stronger man because of it.  
  
Noting the look on Holmes' face, Rebecca decided it was time for her to go.  
She turned away, and quietly headed for the exit to the cemetery,  
leaving Holmes behind, with his dog, his thoughts, and his past...  
  
  
...THE END... 


End file.
